transretrogurl

Yeah, I’m still here! It’s been a weird year so far. Everyone I talk to seems to be down in a weary way, me included, and I’ve found myself weighing up life in general, not in a bad way, but just in a ‘hey, I’m getting older (and it’s my birthday which always makes me a bit morose)’ way. I’ve noticed my tastes are changing again, especially around the ‘hobby’, and I’m starting to manifest a new personality.

Pictured – meet Betsy. I think she’s gorgeous, but I may be biased.

For those who have followed the blog, you’d have noticed I have an interesting fetish about the whole 1950’s ‘housewife’ thing. In particular that period of history when, in America, women were incredibly stylish and incredibly (and not in an overly good way) submissive; gender roles were very much adhered to, the wife stayed home, kept the house and children tidy/healthy, whilst the man of the house went out and earned the bread.

Women didn’t have it good, regardless of the appearance of wealth. The majority of stay-at-home wives seemed to be on ‘mother’s helpers’, which added an odd angle to the whole elegant/submissive feel. But the fashions were gorgeous, and for some reason they have always massively appealed to me.

Pictured – you would never have guessed it, right?

Maybe it is a combination of the thrill of emasculation, of being ‘forced’ into a role that appeals. Or maybe it’s just the styles; full skirts, petticoats, aprons, gorgeous hairstyles and perfect makeup. Whatever it is I’ve always had a soft spot, cough, for that kind of look.

And recently I’ve found myself more and more drawn to the whole look and, more interestingly, the lifestyle.

Pictured – as a boy/adolescent growing up you couldn’t get me to do a single bit of housework. Now, if I put on a dress and open myself up to my inner-housewife, you can’t stop me. Go figure…

For those who haven’t trawled through the huge bumph of content on the blog, I self-medicate Estrogen. Completely on the sly, never asked a doctor (and yeah, I know it’s dangerous but I am personally willing to weigh that against my mental health – taking hormones has smoothed over some rough and damaged edges I have in my psyche in a wonderful way) and a little haphazard, but I have been and am seeing some considerable changes both physically and mentally. Combine those feelings, including a deep-seated attraction to the ‘husband’ kind of man, with the urge to subsume myself into the whole 50’s housewife look and you have a wonderfully kinky tinderbox ready to burst into flame.

Pictured – I’m secretly amazed and kinkily thrilled by the fact that if I upload a picture like this to Instagram it immediately gets taken down with ‘Instagram does not allow sexual images of bare female breasts’.

I’ve been buying fantastic wigs from an Etsy shop (Wig in the City, run by the wonderful Chris) and in a moment of serious urge I ordered a custom wig. It was based on a piece of AI art I saw on DeviantArt, a kind of prissy-perfect crafted 50’s hairstyle. Chris did an utterly brilliant job in realising it in real life and last weekend I popped into London for a session with Cinders at Boys Will Be Girls.

The minute I put the wig on, combined with the most darling black and pink-polkadot 50’s housedress, it just clicked and I felt something deep inside clunk into life. The emergence of a new and over-powering personality. That of ‘Betsy’.

Pictured – I *love* this hair so much. It’s just so 50’s; you can imagine her sat in the salon for hours, a plastic protective cape on, reading ‘Woman’s Weekly’ and gossiping to the other wives as they wait for their hair to set.

So, who is Betsy? Betsy Dubois, married to Frank Dubois. Two children, Jack and Jenny. Betsy is your stereotypical WASP 1950’s American housewife. Subservient to her husband in all respects other than the house, prissy and absolutely focussed in her presentation; even when cleaning the house and cooking she is dressed to the nines, perfect makeup, perfectly styled hair and the latest and most pretty flowing frocks. She is the epitome of a long-gone generation and style, a bygone time of strict gender definitions and roles.

She wears clothes and styles that a modern woman wouldn’t be seen dead in. She looks like an extra from the Stepford Wives (1970’s version of course), and every picture highlights her prissy-ness. We all know someone who could very easily become Betsy if the style and misogynistic attitudes came back (and they aren’t far under the surface; in this age of woke there are a lot of powerful men who would like nothing more than to force women back into the restrictive dresses and the pseudo-prison of the kitchen).

And Betsy is me. Or rather, I am Betsy at my core.

Pictured – and the frock was a cheap one from Amazon, but the combination of pink/black polkadots, the collar, the slightly puffed sleeves and the buttons is just so femm.

When I put on the frock, the shoes, had the hair glued on (and there’s something delightful about that as well) I felt oddly relaxed. And completely comfortable. Wearing a dress and petticoat feels much easier than wearing trousers and a t-shirt. I hadn’t realised how much effort I have to do on a daily basis just to pretend to be masculine.

I actually said it, a number of times, to Cinders. ‘These dresses shouldn’t be so damn comfortable’. Or maybe they should be.

So, drab-me earns the money (and I work hard, including pretending to be one of the men). Sarah is and always was my urges to not be masculine. And Betsy encompasses all my urges in terms of beautiful clothes, pristine looks and wonderfully styled hair. And the urge to be submissive.

Pictured – perhaps not quite *that* submissive. And yeah, I loved this look as well, but this is a Sarah and not a Betsy….

So, let’s skate on some thin ice now. How far I am thinking of taking the whole ‘Betsy’ thing? I don’t plan to transition; as I said before, being a woman 24/7 is a lot of work and I’m kinda happy with slobbing about at the end of a day. I’ve never had a relationship with a man; in my pre-happy pill days I had so much anxiety from everything that it felt like an emotional minefield – being blunt I didn’t have the emotional range to disentangle a fantasy meetup from all aspects of my life. But now I do. Plus, you know, birthday/getting older/you don’t know until you try kind of thing, and yeah, I think I’m ready to see what it feels like to *be* the wife.

Long story short, after a long period of vetting someone I have decided to try a roleplaying session and see what happens. Pre happy-pills I was 100% sure that I would shrink into my shell like a frightened tortoise if ever put in the position; now I have a feeling that Betsy will come to the forefront and take the reins. And that sounds like a lot of fun.

Pictured – I think I can pull off the posh wife….

So, stay tuned dear reader. Also, I know I’ve been quiet so I’m aiming to write a couple of big blogs over the next week – a review of the wonderful fun I had at the last session (which seriously felt like the best session I have had), and a long put-off IAQ (Infrequently (sic) Asked Questions), where I will take the multitude of questions I get on Instagram, Flickr and Fetlife and answer them completely honestly. It will be NSFW but will be a lot of fun.

Stay beautiful, even in these ‘meh’ times; find the things you love and do them. Regret is a waste of emotion that could be used for much more fun things…..

Pictured – and there’s always Sarah with her modern take. This was one of the looks I did at the same time as Betsy.